The Zeitgeist

In any small town, certain people are a nexus – the people through which the lives of others and their information flows. On an island, this is especially true. Notably, being a nexus point is distinct from status. Some of the island's oldest and most landowning families are not necessarily connection points and people who act as hubs are not necessarily prominent.

As in most towns, barbers and hairdressers talk to a lot of people. There are ostensibly two barbers on Patmos, though I have only ever seen one – Kris whose shop is in the Skala town square. I know of the other barber because of Kris who once complained how he was burning the candle at both ends because he was covering for the barber up in Hora AND doing gigs at night as a DJ. Kris' age is difficult to determine, but I would guess late 30's to early 40's and I've known him since he was still making out with his then girlfriend in front of his shop before opening for the evening when he in his mid-to-late 20's. 

Kris may be relatively young – especially compared to his core clientele – but he is trusted, both in the quality of his haircuts and to confide in. Kris' shop – at least in the morning – is more of a social gathering of the island's older men with haircuts. From watching him cut Sennen's hair, I can say Kris is meticulous to a fault. For a man who gets paid by the haircut, his speed is shockingly slow. This is probably what led him to smoke while cutting hair – which he pulls off with grace. All-in-all Kris' barbershop/public house/cigar club is undoubtedly a place where information flies. Kris undoubtedly knows the status of people's businesses, marriages, family affairs and health. His quiet nonchalance gives confidence that whatever he may be hearing or aware of, he probably doesn't actually care that much and therefore, he's safe.

Of all the people who act as social hubs in Patmos, my favorite is Prokopis who owns the hardware shop. Prokopis has THE hardware shop that once was a small shop a few doors down from what is not my house, but has grown to be as close to the Home Depot of Patmos as is possible. There are things he doesn't sell because they cross into another shop's scope and direct competition has to be established with care in an environment like Patmos (cafes, yes – plumbing supplies, not so much).

Certainly, the main home improvement store of Patmos draws a broad group of people. Anyone who needs to fix or improve just about anything will find all roads lead to Prokopis. What may be surprising is that a lot of those people with repair needs are people passing through – particularly on yachts. When confused mainland Greeks and foreigns come looking for supplies to fix their boats or tape to hold their broken suitcases together, locals quickly escort confusing strangers with their odd situations to Prokopis.

That's in part due to Prokopis' background an Australian-born Patmian whose linguistic and cultural bilingualism make him a natural bridge person. In other words, take the crazy foreigners who want things we don't fully understand to Prokopis – he'll sort it out. And he does.

Thus, Prokopis' shop is not altogether unlike Kris' barber shop. Prokopis and his son hold court near the front counter. Customers – largely men and among them, largely local tradesmen – gather 'round and each wait their turn to be helped. While waiting, people chat. Often Prokopis will help one customer while remaining part of a group conversation with others – in Greek, English or a mix thereof. Once in awhile, the crowd gets too big or rowdy and Prokopis takes on a more authoritative air – directing people where to stand or reminding them of their place in the waiting order. Mostly, Prokopis is running a salon of conversation and humor. The happenings of the day all cross through Prokopis' domain.

When confused foreigners arrive, Prokopis helps sort out their issues which can often be referring them to the business best able to address their needs. He calls ahead to the other shop, gives his lost ducklings directions and/or even walks them over. Not only does Prokopis receive the gratitude of many, but his kindness and ability to straddle worlds so comfortably earns him respect among Patmians. 

After finally cleaning out the barbecue with Michelle's help yesterday, it became clear the remaining barrier to using it was the condition of grills. Rusted and coated with years of incinerated chicken, beef and pork particles, it was clear to Michelle and me the grills need some kind of chemical. That led us to Prokopis who got us the right rust-removing cleaner and numerous tools from brushes to spackle knives to help with the manual labor. 

Beyond the purchase and entertaining conversation, I also learned that 40 years ago, Patmos would get enough rain in the winter to fill a creek dropping down from Hora to Skala and out toward the northwest, but no longer. Moreover, California's taxes on cigarettes and anti-smoking laws are a foundational violation of rights that would never fly in Greece. The government passed helmet laws for motorcycle and motorscooter riding a couple of years ago and Prokopis and his cousin are firmly against them. "Those laws don't make sense for us – not in a place like this!"

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

All the same, people like Prokopis, his cousin Stavros (who runs the fire alarm and extinguisher shop) and Kris the barber are some of the best for understanding local culture and thinking. They aren't just reflections of themselves and their closest people – but represent the zeitgeist in which they are firmly entrenched. 

Unfortunately for Michelle, there's nothing Kris or Prokopis can offer for her situation – she's down to two more days on Patmos and is feeling it. This inevitably happens to everyone as their time draws near. In fact, the longer the stay, the harder that last week to few days are. Michelle didn't feel two weeks was quite enough and bought herself some breathing room by adding a third. But she can't extend anymore. 

I told her from experience that departure dread only ruins days that could otherwise be much better. Only it's easier said than done. I myself have never been terribly successful at shaking off departure dread – but I have been better about shortening the number of days I experience it each year. In 2010 it was so bad that Emily and I not only felt badly about the last of our four weeks on Patmos, but we couldn't enjoy nearby Samos simply because it was not Patmos. It wasn't Samos' fault – it was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now we have started the process of revisiting the important places Michelle needs to see and experience once more before departing. Today we had lunch and worked at Livadi Geranou Beach – the one of with the most incredible turquoise water and the little island we've swam to twice. This time we finally ate at the small, simple taverna overlooking the beach where the waitress was kind, but gently judgy about us pulling out computers and Michelle taking her supplements with her meal. It was clear the waitress doesn't believe in supplements.

Later, while Michelle has a longer string of client sessions than I have calls today – I'll follow the process Prokopis outlined for me to treat the barbecue. It's going to be many soakings, scrubbings, rinsings and repeatings. If it all works, I'll go back and let Prokopis know both so he's proud (because I kinda' want to please him) and so the entire assembled court of locals will know and my small part in the Patmos zeitgeist will be recorded correctly.